


Dessert

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-15
Updated: 2000-01-15
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Dessert can be sweet - and fun.





	Dessert

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Dessert by Blue Mohairbear

TITLE: DESSERT  
AUTHOR: Blue Mohairbear  
FANDOM: XF  
PAIRING: Don't want to spoil the surprise, sorry!  
RATING: NC-17  
FEEDBACK:   
SERIES: no, just a little snippet  
ARCHIVING: yes  
DISCLAIMER: I've got some *really* cool snowdomes to trade, but CC keeps refusing.  
SUMMARY: Dessert can be sweet - and fun.  
WARNING: This is a first-time for me, an experiment, so please bear with me. Don't hit me, I've just recovered from that flu bug and a high fever.  
NOTES: Explanations at the end of the snippet, as I don't want to spoil anything. ok? Thank you, Sergeeva, for your loving beta!

* * *

******************  
DESSERT  
by Blue Mohairbear  
January, 2000  
******************

"And now... I want my dessert."

The fiery gleam in his companion's eyes made his stomach clench. Surely the other man didn't mean... he wouldn't...?

"I want you to come for me, sweets. Now."

Oh damn. He *did* mean it.

He shuddered.

And while nimble fingers touched his fly under the long, snow-white tablecloth, he looked around, terrified. But nobody took any notice of them. In a small, exquisite Italian restaurant in San Francisco, two men in suits and ties of simple elegance just were too common a picture to attract attention. People sat at their tables, conversing amiably, laughing, and enjoying the superb food. Elegantly clothed waiters rushed from table to table, bowing, serving, attending to their guests' wishes. Nobody did as much as look at them. And now he understood why they were sitting at this rather remote table.

The hand under the table playfully fondled his balls through the fabric of his pants, then opened the zipper. Heat rose in his groin. He felt his cock swelling painfully already, and bit his lips.

"Please," he whispered. "Please-"

His plea was cut off when the long fingers skillfully and quickly took his cock out and, with practiced sureness, snapped the leather harness open, the hated harness that had been holding his organ imprisoned for the last five days. He gasped and could barely suppress a groan when he felt his finally freed dick eagerly fill and swell to its full size.

"Oh, wonderful, sweets. Wonderful. Big, hard, and so hot. Just how I love it."

A strong, hot hand fastened gently around the shaft and pumped lightly, once, twice, while the other man flashed a blinding grin at him. A beautiful grin -and he felt himself melting inside with love and desire and overwhelmed by the wish to please his Master.

The hand stroked his swollen dick steadily now, and he knew he wouldn't -couldn't - last long. Not after the last five days, in which his Master had denied him any sexual release. And now he knew why.

"Come, sweets. Come for me." The voice was low and husky and went directly to his tortured cock. He was close already, but-

"Don't worry, sweets. The tablecloth is long enough, and if you're a good boy and don't make any sounds, nobody will guess what fun we're having here."

Calmed as always by his Master's voice, he gave in to the waves of hot lust that were slamming into him. Leaning back in his chair, he desperately tried to look normal. Relaxed and content, like a guest in an exclusive restaurant after an exclusive dinner should look. The only difference being that the average guest's cock wouldn't normally be exposed under the tablecloth, and rubbed, and squeezed, and stroked, and pumped, and -

"Oh God - please -"

"Yes, sweets, yes. Come, my love. And say my name when you come. Not "Master". I want to hear my *name*. Is that clear, sweets?"

"Yes, Master..." he whispered hoarsely. And then - then the wonderful, beloved hand on his cock squeezed so deliciously, and the thumb circled his cockhead and rubbed the heart-shaped underside, God -

"FOX---"

\- and his climax hit with full force and shot through him like gunfire. Five days' worth of built-up lust shot out of him in hot, violent bursts. His hands clenched both sides of the chair to prevent him from just limply sliding down to the floor like a wet dishrag.

Then his young master grinned at him, and he relaxed. Slowly, he dared begin to feel great, finally sated, and warm, and -

"I love you, Walter."

\- loved.

He smiled back, eyes gleaming contentedly.

"I love you too, Master."

**The End**

NOTE: A few weeks ago, I read Sergeeva's story "Mistress mine", in which Walter is a slave. Until then, I hadn't been able to picture the Big Guy as a slave, but the story intoxicated me and kept following me around. This snippet is a test - I just wanted to know if I could write a submissive Walter. It wasn't easy, and honestly, I don't think I got him very submissive, but I had lots of fun writing it and I hope you had fun reading it. You can find "Mistress mine" at Sergeeva's Walter Altar: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shire/7155/stories.html

 


End file.
